All I had to do was earn that trust. Unfortunately, I had no idea how to paint—I’d really only worked with pencils and ink. With no other options, I dipped the brush in black and began to sketch with it like a pen as best I could.
There was no time for grace or subtlety. I had to work fast, before the man in the green smock returned. Before the guards took notice and threw us out.
I let the memories flow through me and slashed at the canvas. Each stroke was like the strike of a knife, driven by fury and hatred.
I was here because of Dragan. He haunted my dreams and waking life and sent wolves and demons to hunt me. He’d drained my blood and even tried to cut out my soul.
Fuck him.
Paint flowed like blood across the canvas as my fury rose, and my breath became ragged. Everything, everything was Dragan’s fault.
My trance broke when I fumbled the brush from my aching hand.
How much time had passed?
Suddenly self-conscious, I sat back and looked around. I was surrounded by richly dressed men and women with shocked expressions. There were guards, but Jaxson stood by my side like a bouncer, challenging anyone to lay a finger on me.
I turned to my painting and finally took in the image I’d created. Horror skated across my skin, and my shoulders jerked as a cold darkness settled into my bones. The canvas held a memory that had been seared into my brain.
The moment I’d ripped Dragan’s soul from Kahanov’s body.
It was etched on white with brutal strokes of pigment.
The snaking vines of the cave in Forks moved across the page, reaching out, threatening to drag me into the earth. Blood dripped from the wound in Kahanov’s chest where I’d sunk the Soul Knife. A combination of agony and madness cut across his face as his mouth twisted in anguish.
But it was the image of Dragan that drew the breath from my lungs.
His specter seemed to rise from the page, his crazed eyes fastened on me with a hatred so deep, I trembled. It was like I could feel his fingers raking across my skin, hear his voice reaching through my memories.
I will have my vengeance.
“My God. Are you part of the auction?” A woman’s voice with a heavy accent startled me back to the present.
“What?” I took a shaky breath, gazing up at the couple who were frowning at me.
“Are you for sale?” a man answered, his voice tinged with irritation. “I must have you for my collection.”
For sale?Rage burned behind my eyes. Who the fuck were these monsters?
“No, I’m not,” I snapped as I stood and looked up to the balcony.
Alejandro Rivera gazed back with piercing eyes. Even from across the garden, I could sense his emotions.
Curiosity. Want. Desire.
“Gotcha,” I whispered.
Prickles spread across my exposed skin as a tingling coldness swept over my senses. The smell of pinot noir with earthy undertones of spice. It was the strangest thing…like the vampire was reaching out to me with his signature. How?
A wave of fury and possessiveness drowned everything out, and I turned to Jaxson. His honey-gold eyes were locked on Alejandro and filled with hate.
Great.
Before I could open my mouth, the looming vampire began to slowly applaud, each clap echoing off the towering walls. “Bring it to me.”
I looked back to Jaxson, who gave me an approving nod. I stood and hefted my horrific painting off the easel and headed for the stairs with my alpha in tow.
My entire body quaked with terror and relief. It had actually worked.
When we got to a narrow staircase, the guard stopped and looked between Jaxson and me. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Rivera is only interested in speaking to the artist.”
“Where she goes, I go,” Jaxson growled, letting his signature flare.
The guard shrank back, averting his eyes from the grouchy beast beside me.
I looped my arm around Jaxson’s, trying to calm him. “What he means is, he’s my muse. Didn’t you see him inspiring me before I began my work? I’m sure Mr. Rivera won’t mind.”
Still terrified of Jaxson, the guard nodded meekly and melted away.
I passed my painting to Jaxson, then headed up the winding stairs with him just behind me.
My heart was pounding, and I was so tense, I feared my knees would seize up.
Jaxson put his hand on my back as we ascended. “So far, so good. You’ve got this, Savannah.”
Heat crept along my bare back where his fingers traced my skin. I shivered with delight as Jaxson’s presence exploded around me, pulling me into his orbit.
A little of the terror drained away. Finally, something was going to plan—well, at least going according to improvised plan C.